"Do you come from the 'enemy'?" Luttrell inquired of them. "Yes," replied Fanny, laughing. "My dear Fanny," said Luttrell, in his comical, earnest, methodistical manner, "my dear Fanny, this will never do!" "What won't do?" inquired Fanny. "These Russians, my dear." "She has got a little Portuguese, besides the Russians, coming to her to-night," said I; "the Count Palmella." "The ambassador?" Nugent asked. "God bless my soul!" said Luttrell, looking up to the ceiling with such a face! Tom Sheridan would have liked to have copied it, when he played the methodist in a tub, at Mrs. Beaumont's masquerade. "They are only all brought up upon trial," I observed; "she will cut the rest as soon as she has fixed on one of them." "Yes; but you see, coming after these Cossacks is the devil!" lisped Alvanly, with his usual comical expression. "God bless your soul, we have no chance after these fellows." "There is Argyle looking at you, from Lady W----'s box," Nugent said. The remark put me out of humour, although I did observe that, though he sat in her ladyship's box, he was thinking most of me. Nevertheless it was abominably provoking. Lord Frederick Bentinck next paid me his usual visit. "Everybody is talking about you," said his lordship. "Two men, downstairs, have been laying a bet that you are Lady Tavistock. Mrs. Orby Hunter says you are the handsomest woman in the house." Poor Julia, all this time, did not receive the slightest compliment or attention from anybody. At last she kissed her hand to some one in a neighbouring box. "Whom are you bowing to?" I inquired. "An old flame of mine, who was violently in love with me when I was a girl at Hampton Court," whispered Julia. "I have never seen him since I knew Cotton." "What is his name?" I asked. "George Brummell," answered Julia. I had never, at that time, heard of George Brummell. "Do you know a Mr. George Brummell?" said I to Lord Alvanly. Before his lordship could answer my question, Brummell entered the box; and, addressing himself to Julia, expressed his surprise, joy and astonishment at meeting with her. Julia was now all smiles and sweetness. Just before Brummell's arrival she was growing a little sulky. Indeed she had reason, for in vain did we cry her up and puff her off, as Lord Carysfort's niece, or as an accomplished, elegant, charming creature, daughter of a maid of honour: she did not take. The men were so rude as often to suffer her to follow us by herself, without offering their arms to conduct her to the carriage. She was, in fact, so reserved, so shy, and so short-sighted, that, not being very young, nobody would be at the trouble of finding out what she was.